Harbinger Alternate
by Quills
Summary: Harbinger with an alternate setting


Title: Harbinger Alternate

Author: Quills

Contact: the_quill_pen@yahoo.com

Series: ENT

Rating: R 

Disclaimer:  Paramount owns Star trek and I derive no financial gain from this story.

Codes: A, T/Tu, Ma, S, R, P angst, drama, romance, humor, action/adventure

Summary: This is an alternate version of the "Harbinger" episode. I've kept most of the dialogue identical; changing and adding to it only when absolutely necessary. 

The captain had assigned Tucker and T'Pol to analyze the alien pod that _Enterprise_ had picked up in the spatial anomaly. Doctor Phlox was treating the occupant, who was proving less than forthcoming with information. Archer hoped that Tucker and T'Pol could make up for their guest's lack of cooperation by finding out what the pod's purpose actually was.

Tucker leaned over the computer interface. "I think it's a transmitter," he said, studying the data scrolling across the screen. "I just can't pinpoint the frequency."

T'Pol was standing in front of the pod, scanning the long electrodes that had been attached to the occupant. Her eyes narrowed as she glanced at Tucker, standing behind her. Now was as good a time as any to have that discussion the doctor had requested. Tucker's attempts at practicing neuropressure on the MACO corporal, Amanda Cole, had caused minor injury to the corporal. The Doctor had already spoken to the corporal and thought it best that T'Pol speak to Tucker. At first, she had every intention of speaking to the engineer, but now, she was reluctant. She would have to speak to him eventually, and the privacy they currently had made the moment logical.

 "Doctor Phlox has asked me to speak with you," she said hesitantly.

Tucker turned back to look at her. "What about?

She hesitated, considering how to frame the conversation. Commander Tucker might react defensively to what he deemed an invasion of his privacy. Prudence demanded a more tactful and less direct approach. Prudence was not with T'Pol today. "Corporal Cole has been experiencing headaches."

Tucker frowned, leaving his interface console, and approached T'Pol from behind.

"The doctor believes they might be caused by your neuropressure sessions," she said, looked over at the engineer. 

"She never said anything about headaches," he replied in surprise. 

T'Pol turned back to the alien pod, "Perhaps she didn't want to worry you."

"Why would neuropressure be the cause," he asked, a confused look on his face. 

"It shouldn't be performed by novices," explained T'Pol. "If misapplied, you could cause nerve damage."

"I performed it on you plenty of times," said Tucker, a hint of defensiveness in his voice.

"Under my supervision, " added T'Pol.  
  


Tucker looked at the Vulcan. He was certain she was none to pleased with what he and Amanda had done, and her tone was making that perfectly clear. "I see."

Tucker considered the matter for a moment. He was certain T'Pol would want he and Amanda to stop any further neuropressure sessions. A sudden thought popped into his head and a grin formed on his lips as he turned back to T'Pol. 

"You wanna supervise me and Corporal Cole?" he said with a tinge of sarcasm.

T'Pol's brow arched and she looked at Tucker, "I think it would be best if you ended the sessions."

Tucker pursed his lips. _I knew it!_ he thought. He had seen it coming. She didn't trust him. Didn't think he was competent enough to perform the techniques.

"These electrodes were collecting bio-metric data from the occupant," she said turning back to the pod. 

Tucker shook his head. "Amanda won't be too happy about ending the sessions," he said turning back to his interface board.

"I'm sure she won't," replied T'Pol.

Tucker turned back, his brow went up in surprise. "What do you mean by that?'

"I've noticed that you and Corporal Cole have become somewhat friendly." 

"Friendly," Tucker repeated curiously.

T'Pol glanced at Tucker, considering her next response. "Last week you were eating together in the mess hall, and in the training session yesterday she touched your behind."

Tucker chortled in spite of himself. T'Pol looked up at him, and he cleared his throat trying to retain his composure in front of the Vulcan.

"My behind, huh."

"Indeed," replied T'Pol coolly.

"She was just congratulatin' me," replied Tucker. "I used an unexpected move on her."

T'Pol looked at Tucker and frowned.

"What?" he said defensively. "It was combat move. At least I didn't get blind sided, and knocked on my butt."

T'Pol's eyes narrowed, "That happened once," she replied tersely, "And as I recall, you were knocked down a total of eleven times."

Tucker's brow furrowed. "Now just how the hell do you know that?"

"I counted," she said, focusing her attention on the pod's electrodes.

Tucker rolled his tongue against the inside of his cheek. It was a habit he had picked up, and generally meant he was mad. He was certainly mad at T'Pol. _Who the hell does she think she is?_ he thought. 

"Look," said Tucker, "not all of us are fighters. I was doin' the best I could."

T'Pol didn't bother looking at him. "Perhaps you should pay more attention to the training exercise and less attention to your partner."

 "What?" 

"It seems obvious that you were…distracted by Corporal Cole," said T'Pol. "Perhaps you should find a partner who you do not find as distracting."

"Like you," he said sharply. He hadn't meant it to come out like that, and regretted saying it the moment it left his lips. 

T'Pol glanced up at him, but didn't respond. She returned her attention to the pod again as she continued scanning the electrodes.

"T'Pol, I-"

"Perhaps I can succeed where the corporal has failed," said T'Pol, cutting him off. "It is apparent that your combat skill rating is the lowest of the senior staff."

"What are you suggestin'?" asked Tucker. His anger suddenly replaced by curiosity. 

"I will assist you in your combat skills," she replied. "Tonight, 2200 hours, the training room. Unless of course, you have a prior engagement that prevents you from attending." 

Tucker looked at her in annoyance, "Training room, 2200 hours," he nodded. "I'll be there."

T'Pol looked up at Tucker. Before she could reply, her scanner began emitting several low beeps. Studying the readout on the device, T'Pol turned to Tucker's data interface console.

"What's wrong," said Tucker.

T'Pol walked over to the interface console; running her fingers along the keys, she pulled up the information that the scans had just compiled. Turning, she looked at Tucker. "We need to get this data to the captain immediately." 

The two officers headed for the exit. The captain would need to see the information the scans revealed about the pod, and its occupant

*  *  *

Tucker walked down the quiet corridor. The lighting was at its lowest level. It was the graveyard shift, and most of the crew was off duty. The schedule aboard Starfleet vessels tried to simulate the Earth's cycles of day and night. It was believed to help the crew of a ship better adjust to long periods away from home. 

Approaching the training room, Tucker paused at the door. _What the hell are ya doin'?_  he thought. _You're lettin' that Vulcan bait ya, that's what your doin'."_

He and T'Pol had often had disagreements. He suspected that she liked arguing with him, which is why he suspected she often baited him. Shaking his head, he grasped the hand to the door. He had started this and he wasn't going to back out of it.

Entering the room, he closed the bulky door behind him. Looking up, he saw that T'Pol had already arrived. _I shoulda known she'd be on time,_ he thought as he looked at her. She was wearing something to the outfit he had seen her sporting in the senior officer's training session. Instead of gray, this one was blue, a form fitting tank top and shorts. He did a double take. She wasn't wearing shorts in the earlier training session. He was sure he would have remembered; especially with legs like hers. Her legs ended in as pair of black padded practice shoes that matched the practice gloves she was wearing.

"You're three minutes late," said T'Pol, approaching him.

"Yeah well-"

"Never mind," she said tersely cutting him off. "Lock the door and we may begin."

"What for?"

"I would not want anyone to distract you during your training," she replied, putting her sparring gloves on. 

"Oooook." He could sense something had agitated her. They may not have always seen eye to eye, but he was beginning to read her fairly well. He knew something was wrong.

"We will begin with one of Major Hayes' throwing techniques," said T'Pol.

Tucker nodded as he put on his sparring gloves. He noticed she was already 'dancing' around the mat as she warmed up. 

"Whenever you're ready," he said.

"Perhaps you should stretch first," she said as she moved. "We are not scheduled for a nuero-pressure session tonight and I would not want to be the cause of you and Corporal Cole damaging one another."

_What the hell is wrong with her?_ he thought. 

"I'm fine," he replied in annoyance. 

"Very well," she responded coolly.

"What technique are we doin'?"

"This-" she said and lunged at him with lightening speed. Before he new what was happening, his feet had left the mat. His body twisted as he went sailing over T'Pol, and landed on the other side of the mat with a resounding thud. 

Tucker groaned as he rolled over. "What the hell was that," he growled.

"The throwing technique I told you we were practicing," she said in a condescending tone.

"You were practicin'," replied Tucker. "I was getting' thrown." Tucker stood up and wiped his hands on his shorts. "You coulda hurt me."

T'Pol arched her brow and gave him a condescending look. "Perhaps you should focus on the lesson. I believe _that_ was the reason your combat skills ranked so poorly."

"Don't worry," he replied. "I got nothin' to distract me."

T'Pol gave him a glaring look before walking to the center of the mat. Tucker followed her and the two squared off once again, repeating the same technique. This time, Tucker attempted to grab T'Pol and throw her over his shoulder. The move proved unsuccessful, and T'Pol avoided his grasp by shifting her weight to one side. He moved forward, losing his balance, allowing her to grab his waist and flip him over once again.

Tucker landed on his back with an even louder thud; a spasm of pain rain through his body. Opening his eyes, he looked up to see T'Pol, upside down, dancing on the mat. Rolling over slowly, he righted himself and glared at her. _She definitely means business,_ he thought. _But what the hell did I do to piss her off?_

Getting up he walked passed T'Pol cautiously. It was evident that she wasn't pulling any punches. 

"Let's try somethin' else," he said. "I'm tired of gettin' acquainted with the floor."

"As you wish," she said. "We'll try some sparring blocks."

When he heard that, he almost wished he had stayed with the throwing technique. Rolling his head, he produced a cracking sound from his neck. _I'm gonna need more than nueropressure after this!_

Slowly, they began moving on the mat again. T'Pol danced rhythmically as Tucker tried to move, without causing himself any more pain. T'Pol threw a sudden left jab, and the engineer moved quickly, blocking the gloved fist.  

"So you gonna tell me what the hell is botherin' you?" he asked, circling her.

T'Pol responded with right jab that grazed Tucker's chin. Jumping back, he put a meter between the two of them as he regrouped.

"There is nothing bothering me, commander."

"Sure seems like it," he said.

"You're mistaken," she replied and suddenly closed the distance, throwing a left hook. Tucker ducked and side stepped, repeating the early move she had used against him. She stumbled forward, but regained her balance coming up on the opposite end of the mat.

This had gone far had gone enough. Tucker had to confront her directly, before she tore his head off. He just didn't have any idea what she was upset about, unless…"

"You wouldn't happen to be upset about me and Amanda?" he said, getting back on the mat.

"I'm not upset," she replied.

"Sure sounds like it me," said Tucker, unconvinced.

"You're mistaken," she replied throwing a right cross. Tucker maneuvering into T'Pol's feint and she came down hard with a left hook. He raised his hands just in time to block the brunt of the blow. Swinging his left fist, he caught her with an uppercut to her shoulder. The two 'combatants' separated, allowing some distance between them.

"Why would a few neuropressure session between me and a MACO be such a big deal?" he said getting back on the mat. "Unless…"

T'Pol focused on him as he approached her. "Unless what?"

"Unless you're a little jealous," he replied hypothetically.

Her eyes narrowed on him. "I don't experience jealousy." 

Moving across the mat, her right leg flew up in roundhouse kick. Tucker drop to the floor, narrowly avoiding her foot making contact with his head. Turning, he looked over to see T'Pol land on the opposite side of the mat. He didn't even see that move coming. He suddenly realized she could have easily taken his head off…if she had wanted to. 

Tucker got up and looked over at her, "You're doing a pretty fair imitation of it," he said. 

"I am not…in any way…jealous of you and Corporal Cole," replied T'Pol.

 "You know, your voice is tensing up. It's a dead give away."

She moved in close, holding her gloved fists up. "I didn't know you were an expert in vocal inflections." 

Tucker smiled, holding his own gloved, fists up. "I don't need to be an expert to read you."

She glared at him, throwing her fist out. This time, he didn't even have to move out of the way. He raised his gloves, blocking the punch. She wasn't even trying. 

"Come on, admit it," he said walking along the edge of the mat. "You're a little jealous."

T'Pol suddenly stopped, dropping her hands to her side. "You're implying that I'm attracted to you."

A thoughtful expression appeared on his face as he considered what she had just said. Up until now, he hadn't really given the idea much thought. "That kinda goes along with the assumption doesn't it?"

T'Pol considered her response. The conversation was moving into uncomfortable territory. "I think you're mistaken about who's attracted to whom."

Tucker looked at her in disbelief, "Are you sayin' I'm attracted to you?"

"I don't need to say it. You already have," she countered.

"Um…I don't remember that conversation."

T'Pol's brow went up. She chided herself for the remark. Instead of deflecting the conversation, she had managed to pull them further into it. She had little choice but to explain how she had arrived at her conclusion.

"It wasn't you," she said. "It was your clone. Sim told me."

A shocked looked appeared on his face. "Sim?"

"He said he had feelings for me," she replied, raising her fists.

Tucker looked at her as the revelation still registered. "He told you that?"

"He visited me, in my quarters." 

Tucker's brow furrowed and an angry look appeared on his face. "What the hell was he doin' in your room?"

"Your voice in tensing up," she said parroting his earlier statement.

"Now you're the vocal expert," he said defensively.

"I don't need to be an expert to read you," she finished, and dropped low, swinging her leg out. Clipping Tucker's legs, she caused him to drop to the mat. Moving in quickly, she straddled his waist, and brought a bladed hand down to his neck. 

Shaking his head, he looked up dazed and confused. He barely registered what had just happened to him. "I can't believe this…," he said propping himself up on his elbows. "I'm…I'm jealous …of myself?"

"You're jealous?"

Tucker rolled his eyes, "No, absolutely not!"

T'Pol looked away from him as the words rang in her perfect Vulcan ears. A sensation overcame her and she felt a tightening in her chest. Taking a deep breath, she moved to get up. This had gone far enough.

Tucker watched her response. He wasn't sure what to make of it. She was a Vulcan, and they didn't get jealous or hurt or have feelings…did they?  Grabbing her arm, he stopped her from standing.

"Ok, maybe," he said. "Maybe I am…a little."

T'Pol looked down at him. "Which would mean you're attracted to me," she replied. 

He squinted his eyes as he pursed his lips. _I just walked into that._ he thought. The question was. What did it mean?

"It goes with the assumption," she added.

Looking up at her he shook his head. He had, had enough games for one evening. "What just happened here…?" He hesitated, uncertain if he wanted to say what he believed. Not because he was embarrassed that he might be wrong, but because he was afraid he might be right. "Did we…are we…"

T'Pol looked down at him hesitantly, as he returned her gaze. Emotions struggled to the surface as she desperately tried to cling to her last shred of resolve. Staring into his sparkling blue eyes, she found her control slipping away. Leaning in, she pressed her lips to his, hungrily kissing him, as she cupped his smooth jaw in her soft hands.

The kiss broken, she looked into his eyes. Her lips trembled at her own uncertainty.  What she was doing…what she wanted to do wasn't logical. But it didn't matter. Ignoring reason, she pressed her lips firmly against his in a searing kiss of hot passion.

He responded hesitantly. Arousal mixed with fear permeated his body. Arousal of her hot body pressed against his, and fear of where this might take them. Pushing himself up, he let his lips brush over her lips once more. They lingered in the heady kiss as hands explored in ways that had once only been platonic.

Falling back against the matted floor, he looked at her, desire consuming him. His own breathing was now labored and her hard body pressing against his caused a physical response.

"T'Pol," he whispered lustfully. 

She didn't speak, but simply pressed her fingers to his lips. The look in her eye was enough for him.  He swallowed hard as he saw her half lidded eyes roam over his body. Licking her lips, she gave him a genuine…and unexpected…smile.

Forcing himself up, he grabbed her fiercely, pulling her to him. Parting his lips he kissed her deeply. Acting on sheer passion, she slid her hand down his chest, until she reached reaching his waist. He gasped, pulling her closer. The smell of her sweat was intoxicating. Leaning in, he kissed her long, hard and deep.  She responded, sliding her tongue into his inviting mouth. 

Gliding along his mouth along her jaw he paused, teasing her delicately tipped ear. She shuddered as she felt his warm mouth along the ridge of her ear. Suddenly she gasped at the intense pleasure of his teeth nibbling her lobe. She responded, by moving her hand lower, stroked him lightly for a moment before she pushed herself gently away.

A hungry look in her eyes told him what would come next. Tugging at one another; they removed each other's clothes. Hot passion had overtaken them both as they franticly rushed to explore and caress each other's body.  Sliding up her supple torso, he began laying delicate kisses as he moved down. Lingered around her smooth pelvis, he eliciting moans of pleasure he had never thought possible from a Vulcan.

T'Pol felt as if she were on fire. She could feel hot passion rising within her, and looked down at this man who was igniting it within her. He was so beautiful she could hardly stand it. It was an illogical…emotional thought, and she didn't care. Moving her hands over his back, she raked her nails against his skin as he tended to her.

When he reached the spot he sought she gasped and let her head dip back as she closed her eyes, the sensations threatening to overwhelm her. Nipping at her with his tongue, he slid his free hand to her breasts. Already hard, he stroked her nipples as he gently circled each breast with his hand.

Pushing herself up, she forced him to roll onto his back. Straddling him quickly, she grasped his already hard member and began stroking and teasing it.  Blood rushed to his head and his temples began to throb.  He started to grind his hips against hers, thrusting into her. Desperately, she took him into her and held him as their bodies danced in a sexual rhythm.

His body tightened.  He could feel the pleasure building. Looking up at her, he could see she was desperate, the look of urgency. He continued pumping with rhythmic motion as she began to cry out loud. The intensity was reaching its climax as he could feel her…she was almost there.

Making a sharp thrust into her, she suddenly arched.  Her fingers clenched his hands as she pulsed beneath him.  He let himself go, unable to hold back the intensity any longer. They held one another tightly, riding the waves of her climax as his climax came.  The torrential wave of pleasure flooded their senses as they held each other tightly through the overwhelming orgasm they were sharing.

The heady waves of pleasure rippled through their bodies. T'Pol wrapped her arms around him as she pressed her lips into his shoulder, biting and kissing his flesh. Tucker tensed, gasping as the sensations. 

Slowly the waves of pleasure subsided and they both collapsed in each in each other's arms. Spent from the hot and passionate moment they had just shared, they held each other, softly caressing each other's hot sex filled sweaty bodies. 

T'Pol was the first to break their embrace. She looked at Tucker, and he gave her a warm smile. Focusing on him, she returned his smile with a gleam in her soft eyes. She opened her mouth to speak, hesitating, uncertain what to say to this man she had just shared herself with. 

Suddenly a blaring alarm signaled and they both snapped out of their sex, induced haze as they heard the familiar voice of Lieutenant Malcom Reed.

"All hands, tactical alert!"

Scrambling, they both grabbed for their clothing. There would be time to talk later. Right now, duty called.

THE END


End file.
